It’s about starting over . com

Last year, AND the year before, I was having some trouble preparing for tests. I always found myself in somewhat of a panic, felt very nervous, and I had a lot of trouble concentrating. My younger son recommended that I change the name of what I was doing. I said, “well, that’s pretty silly, I’ll still know it’s the same thing, how’s that going to help?” He explained to me that when he “studies for tests,” the concept always brings up the same feeling he had when he was a kid in grammar school–pressured, if he doesn’t do well someone will be mad, he’ll feel embarrassed, and so on. He said he simply began looking at tests like they’re a challenge or a game, somewhat like a crossword puzzle or Scrabble, for which he wanted to prepare. He said it really helped him, and so I thought I’d give it a try. I did, and it really helped. I now look forward to tests, and actually enjoy it when I have a teacher who gives a lot of them!

Oops, I ate a cream puff 

I recently wrote about how I did away with procrastination. But like all good dieters, I began to slip a bit. And like all good dieters, I wasn’t happy about it the next day. After this happened a few times, I began asking myself what else I can do to reinforce what I had already started. I also thought back to what my son had said about tests, and I started thinking about when and where it’s the easiest for me to procrastinate. The answer was, at home, and in the evening. I then asked myself what it was about this combination of home and evening that made me want to put off my studying until later. It was then that I realized what home meant to me.

Home is where…

For me, home is a special shelter from the world. It’s where I’ve always come to get away from the world, to relax. During the time that I worked in high tech (usually accompanied by a long commute), I always came home exhausted. I knew that the moment I walked through my front door, I could shed the world and all its concerns until the alarm clock went off the next morning. I would take off my shoes, change in to baggy, comfy clothes, eat good food, drink good wine, watch a movie (didn’t even have to be good), and spend some time with the people I love. Sort of like a big, ten-hour sigh.

Habits are habits!

After moving to my new home, I found that I still felt the same way. Minus the commute, the long work day and all the family members, I still want to experience that sigh once I walk through the door. Trying to not do the sigh was like trying to wear a business suit and practice manners fit for royalty while at home…or worse, it’s like being on a diet (uuh!). With my son’s suggestion about tests in mind, I set out in a new direction.

My sanctuary

Yes, you’re right. I changed the name of my home. It’s no longer my home or my apartment, but it’s now my sanctuary. Since the word sanctuary can mean something very close to the place where I did “the sigh,” I elaborated a bit: it’s my sanctuary of study, of music and love, of wisdom, of creativity and of health. I wrote all these on a piece of paper and at the bottom, I wrote the statement, “I expel all that is unlike.” I keep this paper always in plain sight.

So simple!

It’s funny how simple things can sometimes be. This tiny change in attitude put the polish on my already-in-full-swing-but-slightly-lagging destruction of procrastination. Now, when I come home, I glance at the paper, smile, and say to myself, “Ahhhh, I’ve entered my sanctuary where all these things take place.” It’s such a wonderful feeling!

It’s now 11:30 p.m. My first class started at 9 a.m., and I’ve just finished studying. It’s going to be an exciting weekend as I prepare for my upcoming games at school. I have some really big challenges (memorizing modes, working on both jazz and traditional harmony, preparing improvisation exercises, performing in front of my fellow students, learning to play various percussion instruments and more…much more) and I’m really looking forward to grocking them all. But for now, it’s time to go snuggle in my feather bed with my cat and James Herriot.

G’night!

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